Over the rainbows

Do you ever feel like delving into your beloved blogs is akin to Dorothy's trip color-ward? It seems mighty adventurous, progressive, thrilling, to be able to suddenly have access to stories that make you laugh, pictures that tie you to a faraway friend, and recipes that make your mouth water with the wondering if... if I could create that...

Could I create one? Whether I tantalize you with my typing or not I've decided to jump into the world of color, and this does not come without certain reservations. Nonetheless, these fears cannot stem the tide of an English-turned-Spanish major who never experienced the scintillation of a creative writing class. So I'll create my own.

The spark that launched my blog was the realization that my toddler, Jonathan, is objectively hilarious. His antics must be shared. Just yesterday he was dubbed endearingly by my husband "Dennis the Menace," and while his playful mischievousness would merit the term, it was actually the hair that did it. You see, I am what you may call "frugal". Perhaps miserly is a more appropriate term, because while I claim that my current refusal to use paper towels is for the environment, the truth is that I am inordinately proud of the twenty-some odd dollars I save every month or two. What does frugal have to do with hair? You connect the dots, and they will lead you to a haircut that I humbly describe to friends as the result of Momma Scissorhands being let loose on my child's locks. Combine Scissorhands with a few well-placed cowlicks, two days without a bath, and a long afternoon nap, and Jonathan woke up with the most fantastic bedhead I have ever seen. I am too entertained by my son's physical quirks to fix them, so I decided to take him out in public just as bed-headed as he could be.

I cannot count the comments I received. "Nice hair." "Ohhh, how cute." "Nice haircut, buddy." All of the mothers at the Children's Museum were walking past us, puffed out and proud hens, because their child had perfectly combed hair, unlike mine. I could almost hear them clucking. And I loved it.